Kristen looked away from the nobles, experiencing jealousy for the first time in her life. But since she had never known jealousy before, she didn’t realize that was what she was feeling. She only knew it disturbed her to watch that lady, so lovely in all her finery, trying to gain Royce’s attention. Kristen’s only consolation was that he was so occupied with his King he had not noticed.
Chapter Twenty-six
The feast continued throughout the afternoon and on into the evening. Cooking fires had been set up in the yard behind the hall to roast the larger animals, no less than three to offer a variety: the deer the hunters had brought in that morning, a sheep, and a tender young calf. Smaller game was prepared inside over the hearth, as well as fresh vegetables from the manor gardens. Rounds of cheese were brought up from the cellar, along with fruits recently gathered. Tarts were made from these, and sweet pies and sauces.
Kristen ate as she could, whenever she found a few seconds to spare. Feasts like this one were not new to her. She had even helped prepare the food for them before, for in the dead of winter at home it was not unusual for one or more of the servants to be sick and extra help needed for cooking. But there was a major difference: She had never helped with a feast in the summer months at home.
In winter when the closed-off cooking area became too warm, the back door could be opened to let in a cold breath of relief. Here, even with the open window near the hearth, Kristen felt as if she herself were in the oven along with the many loaves of honey bread.
The heat seemed worse than any day previous. It was the overcrowding in the hall, and the fact that it had been overcrowded the whole day. It was also the long sleeves on her new chainse, which were chafing at her arms. Both chainse and gown were plastered to her back and sides. The hair that had worked loose from her braid hung in wet strings about her face.
As strong and healthy as she was, Kristen was drawing on her last reserves today. The other women took every chance they got to rush outside for a respite. She could not. She might not be chained any longer, but she was watched—by Eda, by the other women, and by several of Royce’s men—constantly. Gradually she came to realize that the men, even though they sat at their leisure, had been ordered to keep watch on her. So much for Royce’s completely trusting her!
This might not have pricked her ire if it were not for the heat. But because of it, Kristen was feeling just as snappish as the other women. Sharp reprimands and slaps were quick to fall, given by the older women to those younger. Even Eda boxed the ears of one girl simply for standing idle for a few moments to fan herself.
Tempers were running high among all the harried servants. At the tables, spirits ran high, for the guests were enjoying themselves. There had been dancing for a while in the center of the room between the tables, and Kristen had looked on wistfully, noting that the Saxon dances were not so different from her own. Bards had told stories of dragons and witches, of giants and elves. A harp-playing minstrel sang of heroes of an older land, but mostly of King Egbert, Alfred’s grandfather, who had changed the history of his kingdom from acknowledgment of the supremacy of Mercia as overlord of Wessex, to then twice defeating Mercia and eventually delivering his kingdom from Mercian control.
How much of these tales are true?Kirsten wondered, but she heard as well how this grandfather of Alfred’s also defeated the Welsh, the men north of the Humber, and the giant Celts of Cornwall, who had steadily resisted his rule. All delighted in the tales and the minstrel was urged to sing more and more.
So the day progressed, with the nobles being entertained and lavished with good food and drink, while the servants toiled to provide it. At one point Kristen was summoned by two lords who wanted her in particular to serve them. Eda had already told her she was not to serve, even though she had the freedom of movement now. It was just as well. Preparing food in the obscurity of the cooking area was one thing. Actually serving lords and ladies she considered to be no better than herself was quite another. Those two lords she simply ignored until they gave up and called another wench to their needs.
She was not noticed other than that. Or so she thought. She would have felt a degree of embarrassment to know she had in fact engaged the curiosity of everyone there, including the King. Among the nobles, she was pointed out to a neighbor, speculated about, but no one condescended to actually inquire about a slave, as she was assumed to be on the basis of her dress and labors. It was only Alfred who felt no qualms about asking Royce to appease his curiosity.
Kristen would have bristled if she could have heard that conversation. As it was, she bristled at how often she heard the captured Vikings being discussed. Royce was lauded for the feat, and commended for having put the “savages” to work for his defense. Thosesavageswere kept to their windowless quarters today because the whole manor was feasting. Thosesavageswere her friends and neighbors!
If she was not irritable enough because of the heat, she had heard one too many derogatory remarks about her friends, enough to put her very near an explosive level, whereby the slightest wrong look or word might be her undoing. That wrong look came from Royce himself.
At a lull in activity during the minstrel’s song, Kristen deliberately moved to sit on the window ledge and fan herself with both hands. Her guards could not see her there, since the other women around the table blocked her from their line of vision, and that suited her surly mood. But Royce could see her clearly, and she caught his stern look, correctly interpreting it for what it was: a warning to stay away from the window. Did he think she would escape through it? Of course he did. She was to be denied even that little bit of respite from the heat.
It was too much. She stood up. Furiously, slowly, with her eyes never leaving his, she ripped off the long sleeves of her chainse just as she had done once before, and tossed them out the window. She felt the cooling difference immediately. She also heard Royce give a hearty shout of laughter at what she had done.
It was the laughter that saved her from doing anything more extreme, for it enabled her to step outside her discomfort and see the humor of her pique. The irritation she had felt all day drained away. She even grinned as Eda began to scold her and pulled her back to the table.
That had happened less than an hour ago. The hall was quieting down now. Food was being removed from the tables. Preparations were already under way for the morning meal.
Kristen imagined it would be many hours yet before she could find her bed. She was wrong. Royce rose and came to her. Without a word, he took her hand firmly in his and began to lead her to the stairs.
If she were not so exhausted, she might have protested his indelicacy, for she knew exactly what he was doing. He had said that by his actions he would make known to Alfred’s nobles that she had his protection. How better to do that than by proclaiming her his bedmate? No one watching could mistake his intention. He even hesitated at the foot of the stairs to briefly kiss her.
Strangely, Kristen was not in the least chagrined by what he was doing. Were she his wife, they would retire of an evening in just such a way. But what really held her silent and acquiescent was that Royce was leaving his King and all his guests to his cousin Alden’s care, so that he could retire with her. Her protection meant that much to him.
“’Tis well you did not fight me, Kristen.”
He said this as soon as he had closed the door to his chamber and released her hand. By his tone, she knew he was thanking her for allowing his little charade to play. She moved toward the bed, saying nothing until she had sat down to relieve her weariness.
“I would not fight you in front of others, milord.”
He came to stand in front of her, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Mayhap you are not aware of what—”
She cut him short with a soft laugh. “Your method was rather crude, but I did not mistake the gesture—nor, I think, did your guests. You have labeled me as you intended.”
“And you do not mind?”
“I must not, or I would be angry. Or mayhap I am just too tired to be angry. I do not know. But why are you disturbed? Would it have suited your purpose better to have carried me up here kicking and screaming?”
“’Twas anticipated,” he grunted.
She smiled at him, shaking her head. “As I said, I would not fight you in front of others.”
